


The Hardest Thing

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene), Nixxi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Forbidden Love, M/M, warning: miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixxi/pseuds/Nixxi
Summary: "You okay?" Gladio asks.“Yes.” A blatant lie; this is the worst day of his life. In less than an hour, Ignis will have to stand next to Gladio at the altar and watch him marry someone else. “I’m fine.”In a world where arranged marriages are the norm, Gladio and Ignis can't have what they truly want—each other.





	1. The Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> AtropaAzraelle and I wrote some drabbles around the theme of arranged marriages/forbidden love, based on several prompts. These drabbles are all connected and occur in chronological order.

"You okay?" Gladio asks.  
  
Ignis finishes straightening Gladio's tie and looks up into eyes like whiskey in sunlight—the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. They’re gazing at him now with soft concern.  
  
“Yes.” A blatant lie; this is the worst day of his life. In less than an hour, he'll have to stand next to Gladio at the altar and watch him marry someone else. The daughter of a powerful Lucian lord, hand-picked by Clarus for his son. Whether or not he considered Gladio’s feelings on the matter, Ignis will never know. “I’m fine.”  
  
Gladio sees right through him, as he always does. He gently touches Ignis’s elbow, and that coupled with the misery in his eyes is too much for Ignis to stand. He turns away, reaching for the suit jacket hanging from the door of the wardrobe. As long as he keeps his hands occupied, he can’t dwell on the pain of his repressed longing. Of wanting to have Gladio, but knowing he never can.  
  
“Arms out,” Ignis says. Gladio obeys, and Ignis helps him shrug into the jacket. It fits him perfectly, having been tailored by the Citadel’s seamstress for his broad shoulders and muscular back. “There we are.” He glances around the room. "Where’s the boutonnière?”  
  
“On the dresser.”  
  
Ignis retrieves it, lifting the yellow rose from the box it came in. He catches a whiff of its delicate fragrance as he pins it to Gladio’s lapel—and then, despite his better judgment, he runs a hand down Gladio’s chest to smooth out the fabric. It would be nothing to lay his head on that chest, to hear Gladio’s powerful heart beating underneath. It requires all of his willpower not to.  
  
"Iggy..." Gladio says.  
  
A larger hand covers his own, and then Gladio starts to lean in, his lips descending toward Ignis. Instinctively, Ignis knows he wants a kiss. After all, Gladio shares his feelings, and has shared them all these years, only they were too honourable to act on them, knowing things would end like this someday. Perhaps they should have been a little more reckless. Perhaps they should have taken what little happiness they could while they had the chance. But now it’s too late.  
  
Gladio belongs to another.  
  
Ignis pushes on his chest to stop him, creating a respectable distance between them. "We can’t."  
  
Gladio’s golden eyes turn pleading, flitting from Ignis’s eyes to his lips and back again. "She'll never have to know."  
  
Ignis wants nothing more than to kiss the man he loves, just once, before Gladio is lost to him forever. But he won't be complicit in this. He can't be that selfish.  
  
"We can't," he says again, and he has to turn away from the heartbreak in Gladio's eyes before it makes him weak.


	2. By His Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis takes his place beside Gladio at the wedding.

She looks beautiful dressed in white, he thinks. Her steps are elegant, practised, perfectly timed to the steady beat of the music. She's a fine bride, and will be a finer wife. Her family stand to their side of the hall, eyes on her. Her father beams with pride watching his little girl on her wedding day. Ignis knows of most of her family, even if he hasn't met them before today. 

Behind him stand serried rows of his own friends and family, trussed up in their black suits and finery. At the back of the hall are the cameras, multiple photographers capturing the scene for the various publications that want in on this special occasion. It's the closest thing to a royal wedding the media has had for a while, and the public appetite is there for a spectacle; a blushing bride, a dashing groom, and all the pomp and ceremony that such proximity to the Lucis Caelums can lend. 

Gladio catches his eye, and Ignis sees the way his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes before he turns towards the podium, away from Ignis and towards his bride as she arrives beside him. The box with the rings burns at Ignis's inside pocket, their presence searing all the way to his heart and twisting in his gut like a knife. He reminds himself of the cameras and forces a swallow down his dry throat before he takes his place by Gladio's left side, serving as his Best Man, and sorely wishes he was on his right instead.


	3. The New Arrival

Gladio’s daughter is born one year and three months after his wedding.  
  
Ignis doesn’t go to the hospital to be with them, though he knows Gladio wouldn’t mind if he did. Instead, he goes to their house and lets himself in with the spare key hidden under a stone planter. Without Gladio and Lucina, the house feels quiet and empty, eerily still. He shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it in the closet, then moves to the kitchen, switching on the radio before he rolls up his sleeves.  
  
One by one, he goes through the cupboards and refrigerator to gather what he’ll need. Flour. Spices. A few cloves of garlic. Olive oil and crushed peppers, a head of lettuce and a handful of Leiden potatoes. A few filets of fresh trout. When Gladio and Lucina return from the hospital, they’ll be too busy with their new baby to cook a proper meal—so Ignis is going to do it for them. He’s already running through all the recipes in his head, calculating how many containers of food he’ll be able to fit in the freezer.  
  
As he’s chopping up the potatoes, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He dries his hands on a tea towel and pulls it out. It’s a text from Gladio, with a picture attached.  
  
It’s of Gladio cradling his daughter against his chest. His eyes are closed, his lashes resting on his cheekbones, his face conveying a profound sort of peace Ignis has never seen there before. It’s an expression of pure love. Gladio would lay down his life to protect his family—and that includes Ignis and Noct—but Ignis suspects he would go to hell and back for his little girl.  
  
_Say hello to Rose_, the text says. _She can’t wait to meet her Uncle Iggy._  
  
Rose. How fitting. Another flower for the Amicitia family tree.  
  
Smiling wistfully, he looks at the picture for another moment before he puts the phone down. Despite himself, his throat has gone tight, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. Rose will never be his daughter.  
  
But she’s Gladio’s, and so he’ll love her as if she is.


	4. Honesty

She wrapped her dressing gown more tightly around herself as she took a seat. The aroma of coffee permeated the air. Ignis could still see the lingering swell of pregnancy at her belly, although baby Rose slept soundly in her crib upstairs.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the cup from the table.

“Thank you,” Gladio's wife replied, firmly. Her gaze fell on the silver pendant, lying in its box. Three hearts nestled inside each other, the smallest of rose gold. When Ignis had seen it he'd known it was the one. “You might have been Gladio's pick,” she said, “but there's no one else I'd have chosen to be her godfather.”

“It's an honour.” An honour that made his heart swell and break, but she wasn't to know that.

“You'll be a wonderful father yourself one day,” she said, her smile warm. Dark circles were forming under her eyes, and she'd foregone makeup. The trials of a new baby were as evident on her face as they had been on Gladio's yesterday when he'd asked, but both of them wore the dazed, soft smiles of happy parents.

Ignis shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. Gladio had always kept Ebony in the kitchen just for him. “I doubt fatherhood will ever be in the offing,” he said. “With my work I could never give enough of myself to a family,” he explained, flashing her a smile that he hoped made it to his eyes. His role was his excuse; Lucis needed him, _Noct_ needed him, and their needs outweighed his desire for a family.

That was what he told himself. It was an easier lie to believe when the only person he could ever imagine himself having a family with had built his own with someone else.

“You sound like Gladio,” she said. Ignis's stomach lurched. “He fretted something fierce over it while I was pregnant,” she explained, “but he's doing all right.”

“Family means a lot to Gladio,” Ignis agreed, and wished the words didn't become sand on his tongue. He took another sip of coffee.

“So does his duty,” she said. “I knew that when I married him,” she sighed.

Ignis lifted his chin, examining the sadness in her smile. “Gladio loves you dearly,” he told her.

“I know,” she said, “but he'll never really be mine. His heart is always going to lie somewhere else.”


	5. Elation

“You're going to be an Uncle again.”

Ignis's heart soared at the words, but a swinging pendulum of pain hung beneath it, weighing it down. In the years since Rose had first graced Gladio's arms Ignis had been as much a part of her life as any blood relative. He'd changed her diapers, bathed her, cradled her at night when the monsters under the bed tormented her because daddy wasn't there to chase them away.

The monsters were as afraid of Ignis as they were her papa, but Ignis would always be a poor substitute. Rose was her daddy's girl. Quietly, Ignis despaired for the unfortunate teenage boys that would have to face her papa one day.

“That's wonderful news,” he said, and he meant it even as he saw his bond with Gladio weakening in the light of two beautiful children forever cementing his heart in the bosom of their family. “Congratulations.”

Gladio's grin split his face with pure excitement. The days of midnight feeds and sleepless nights were just far enough behind them that the prospect of going through it all again brought happiness. “Come for a drink with me,” he declared, “we need to celebrate.”

Ignis had work to do. Reports were due, and there was a diplomatic meeting with the representatives from Accordo coming up, and he really needed to make sure Noct was fully briefed. Gladio's arm landed across his shoulder and his half-formed objections melted at the touch. “Just one,” he said, putting up token resistance.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gladio agreed, a little too quickly and easily, “just one.” His eyes held a note of mischief that softened into a look of longing that made Ignis's heart hammer against his ribs. He swallowed, and Gladio looked away, his arm tightening around Ignis.


	6. Despair

“Something's wrong, I-- There's an ambulance coming.” 

The distress, confusion, and fear in Gladio's voice had woken Ignis more effectively than any coffee. He'd raced to Gladio, violating traffic laws and breezing across clear junctions in defiance of the stop lights, clad only in his pyjama bottoms and shoes, and the coat he'd dragged on while making his way out of the door. 

He arrived to find the ambulance already there, blue lights flashing in silence. He parked out of the vehicle's way and ran inside. 

He saw Lucina first. Gladio's wife, Rose's mother, her face pale and afraid, her hands splayed over the small swell of her belly, not yet a full four months gone. She was seated in a wheelchair, being pushed towards the door by one of the paramedics who had the urgent manner of someone that knows it's already too late but that efforts must be made regardless. 

“Ignis,” she said, her voice cracking as she grabbed his arm and clung like a woman drowning. He'd been a family friend ever since she and Gladio married, and he'd never blamed her for the fact he lost Gladio. It was the choice of neither of them, after all. He reminded himself of that often. 

“I'll look after Rose,” he promised her, taking her cold and shaking hand in both of his. 

“Thank you.” Her hand fell from his, and Ignis heard her choke off a sob as she was wheeled out of the door. Gladio rounded the corner, a bag in his hand, his face a mask of horror. “Iggy,” he repeated, sounding just as he had ten minutes ago when he'd called. He dropped onto Ignis's shoulder, his arms circling him tightly. Ignis didn't think he'd ever seen Gladio more distressed. 

Ignis embraced Gladio in kind, but briefly. “Go to your wife,” Ignis told him, pushing him away, “let me know what's happening.” 

Gladio stood once more, brushing tears from his cheek as he nodded and ran after Lucina.

Then Ignis was left alone in the wake of their disaster, the family home torn asunder in panic and hurry. He made his way upstairs to check on Rose, passing the master bedroom and its open door. The mess on the sheets was unmissable, and sent a cold wash through Ignis's gut. 

He eased Rose's door open, spying the toddler in her crib, sleeping peacefully. Her thumb lay pressed against her lip, her tiny fingers curled into a fist, her dark hair a tangle on the sheets. He watched her small chest rise and fall as she slept, her room a peaceful island in the eye of a storm of despair, and then left her to go and get rid of the blood on her parents' bed.


	7. Lost and Found

Ignis is the one who finds her.  
  
Gladio’s pacing the back patio of his manor, on hold with the police, stomach churning with fear, when he walks out of the forest behind the house with Rose in his arms. She’s bundled up in Ignis’s suit jacket, with her head tucked under his chin and a thumb in her mouth, lookin’ for all the world like she belongs there. Relief floods through Gladio, so intense it makes his knees weak, and the dread that’s been sittin’ on him since he found her bed empty this morning finally dissipates.  
  
Losing the baby was bad enough. Losing Rose would’ve killed him.  
  
“She was hiding in a hollowed-out tree trunk,” Ignis murmurs when he reaches Gladio’s side. “I missed her the first time I passed by. She was frightened, but she seems all right otherwise.”  
  
“Thank you,” Gladio says.  
  
The sight of them—of Ignis holding his daughter—puts a lump in Gladio’s throat. It ain’t the first time he’s regretted being pressured by his dad to marry for politics. If he hadn’t, maybe things would be different. Maybe Rose would call Ignis “Papa”, too, instead of “Uncle Iggy.”  
  
“I asked her why she ran away,” Ignis goes on. “She thinks you and Lucina are upset with her. I take it things have been tense since…?”  
  
The miscarriage. Shit. It hit Gladio harder than he cares to admit, and as for Lucina, well… she’s been distant and closed off, and randomly locking herself in the bathroom to cry. They’ve tried to keep it together for Rose, but she must’ve picked up on the weird vibes more than Gladio realized. It breaks his damn heart.   
  
“Rose…” He moves toward them, reaching for her. “Come here, sweetheart.”  
  
Ignis presses his lips to Rose’s hair. “Do you want to go to your papa, darling?”  
  
Rose nods and puts out her arms. Gladio takes her, meeting Ignis’s eyes as she wraps her limbs around him, clinging to him like a little monkey. They’ve known each other for so long that Gladio’s an expert at reading Ignis’s face. He doesn’t miss the flicker of sadness in his eyes.   
  
It’s only there for a split second before Ignis looks away.


	8. Wishes

It does complicated things to Gladio's heart to see Ignis walking hand-in-hand with Rose. At six years old she's rambunctious and willful, and more prone to being found with skinned palms and grazed knees than playing with her dolls. Gladio loves her, has never loved anyone or anything as completely as he loves her, and she makes it all worth it. 

But then he sees her clinging to her Uncle Iggy's hand, beaming a million watt smile in Gladio's direction before Ignis lets her loose to run to him, and he catches a split second glimpse of what his life could have been. Ignis loves Rose as fiercely as Gladio does, and Rose looks forward to her time spent with Uncle Iggy with an enthusiasm that would make Gladio jealous if he didn't know better. 

“Papa!” she screeches, launching herself at Gladio and trusting him to scoop her up into his arms and hoist her to his shoulder. 

“Were you good for Uncle Iggy?” he asks, looking up at her as he settles her weight securely on his arm and steadies her there. 

She gives a firm nod that shakes her whole body. “We made Remembry Lane Pastry,” she answers. 

Gladio catches Iggy's amusement at the mangling of the name, and he can't help but wonder if Rose is doing it deliberately. “I hope you saved me some,” he said, before turning to Ignis. “Thanks for having her.” 

“My pleasure, as always,” Ignis answers. 

There's a moment, crystallised in time, where Gladio feels the branches of fate diverge, and he slips his arm around Ignis and walks off with Rose on his shoulder, and Ignis by his side, the happy family he knows they would be. It shatters when Ignis nods, and says, “Give my regards to Lucina.”


	9. Fractures

Gladio closed his eyes against the sensation of warm lips at his throat. A hand, with fingers long and delicate, stroked over the muscles of his stomach and down, grasping his cock gently and starting to stroke. It felt good, and maybe if he kept his eyes closed and didn't think too much it would start to feel great.

“Sorry,” he murmured, and he meant it, grasping a much too slender wrist in his hand and stilling its motions. “Not tonight. I'm tired.”

A kiss was pressed to his shoulder. “You're always tired. Just relax, let me do the work.”

He should, he knew. It had been weeks, enough weeks that he'd lost count of how many weeks it had actually been.

Lips pressed to his shoulder again. The mattress creaked. Gladio pulled away and rolled onto his side. “Sorry,” he repeated, looking into eyes that were too dark, framed by hair that fell in soft waves around her face. “Can we just cuddle instead?”

She sighed, her smile soft, and sad, but so much more patient than Gladio knew he deserved. She curled in against him, folding her smaller frame against his body. She was soft, and pliant under his hands, her figure built of sloping curves and rising swells.

He couldn't tell her that he craved the firm meat of toned muscle, that he desired tight pectorals over her full breasts. Her hands were too soft, her nails too long. Her hair tangled in his fingers in all the wrong ways.

“I love you,” he said.

It was truth, of a sort. She'd given him Rose, and Rose would always be a part of her, and he loved her deeply for that. But her touch left him cold, and when he looked into her brown eyes it was green he longed to see looking back at him.

It was green eyes he pictured in the shower alone in the morning, and every morning it felt like a betrayal.

“I love you too,” she said, softly. Her arms coiled around his waist. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I'm as happy as I can be,” he answered, honestly, and closed his eyes again and wished the body in his arms was taller, broader, leaner, and harder, with short sandy hair that fell into beautiful green eyes.


	10. A Beginning, Or An End

Gladio set his bag on the floor and looked around. The house was suspiciously quiet. No rambunctious, adoring eight year old called him 'papa' and flung herself at him. “Where's Rose?”

“I asked Ignis to have her for the night,” Lucina answered. Her hair and makeup were done. She looked like she was going out, like she had when they'd first married and were still getting to know each other. “I think we need some time together.” She held a glass of wine out to him.

Gladio was hit with a wash of guilt. Lucina was a good woman, mother to his child, intelligent, and funny, and attractive, and he'd neglected her lately. Their sex life had dwindled to nothing, and they didn't go out together any more, or spend time enjoying each other's company. “I'm sorry,” he said, taking the wine from her. “I haven't been very attentive, have I?”

“No,” she said, with a smile, “you haven't.” It was a gentle telling off, and Gladio knew it was overdue. “And that's the point,” she added. “Do you think we're done?”

Gladio's brow furrowed. Something cold dropped down the inside of his chest, coating his lungs. “What do you mean?”

Lucina sighed, moving in towards his arms and rested her hand at the back of his neck. Her fingers were warm, and she'd spritzed herself with the same sweet floral perfume she'd worn on their wedding day. “We have a beautiful daughter, and you're a good man, and a wonderful father, but I think it's time we made a decision.” The hairs rose on the back of Gladio's neck. His heart thundered in his chest. “Do you want to keep going,” Lucina continued, “and see if we fall in love, or are you ready to stop trying?”

The world froze. The tick of the clock became unbearably sharp in Gladio's ears as he stared into his wife's dark brown eyes. “Are you asking me if I want a divorce?”

Lucina's hand slid to cup his cheek. “I love you, Gladio,” she said, softly, “but in eight years I haven't fallen _in_ love with you, and I know you feel the same. I see the way you look at Ignis. You've never once looked at me that way.”

Everything shattered. Gladio's throat closed up and his heart raced. Divorce. An end to their marriage. An end to the only life he knew, but with it a chance to finally be with Ignis. “What about Rose?” The question left his lips before the thought had fully formed. The idea of losing his daughter, of giving her up along with the life they led made his skin crawl and his hands tremble.

“This shouldn't be about her. When she's older she'll never forgive us if we stay together even though we're not happy. We can't put that burden on her.”

Gladio swallowed, his throat was dry, and ached. “I am happy,” he said. He had a beautiful daughter, a home, a wonderful wife that he cared for even if he didn't love her that way. It was more than most. More than he'd expected to have on his wedding day.

Lucina looked down. Her eyelids were dusted with shadow, and her lashes almost touched her cheeks. Rose wore that same look when she was upset. It tore at Gladio's heart. “But you could be happier,” she said. She looked up again, her gaze locking with his. “So could I.”


	11. Together

The knock comes at his door at quarter to midnight.   
  
Ignis is still awake, savouring the last of a bottle of red wine and putting the finishing touches on a report for the council. He has half a mind to ignore it; after all, most reasonable people would be in bed at this hour. But something compels him to close his laptop lid and rise from his desk, to pad over to the door and open it.   
  
He finds Gladio standing on the other side, leaning against the jamb with his hands in his jeans pockets. He’s sopping wet from the downpour. Water pools in the creases of his leather jacket and beads in his hair.  
  
"Gladio," he says, surprised.  
  
"The divorce is done," Gladio says roughly. He steps inside without waiting to be invited, dripping onto the tile floor, and one large hand comes up to grip Ignis by the bicep. Ignis can feel the heat of his skin through his dress shirt. "It's done, Iggy."   
  
"It's done?" Ignis repeats, dumbfounded.   
  
Intellectually, he knew it was coming. Gladio and Lucina told him of the decision months ago—a mutual decision, they said, and an amicable split, with shared custody of Rose. As difficult as it was for the two of them, he could see they were excited about the future, too. They would be free to do as they pleased with their lives, unencumbered by the marriage their families had chosen for them.  
  
—Yet in his heart, it was difficult to believe. Over the years, the possibility that he and Gladio might someday be together was always remote, an impossible dream. Divorce among the Lucian nobility was almost unheard of, and though they remained close, Gladio was always devoted to his family, while Ignis sought companionship in satisfying but short-lived relationships. The stars, he thought, would never align.  
  
But this isn’t a dream. Gladio is here, in front of him, offering him everything.  
  
Before Ignis can suggest something foolish, like going on a date and taking things slowly, Gladio gathers Ignis into his arms and kisses him. The touch of his lips takes Ignis’s breath away; the solid heat of his body makes his knees weak. He groans and wraps his arms around Gladio’s neck, twining his fingers in his damp hair, and Gladio lifts him off his feet, crushing their bodies together. Ignis pours all of his love and desire into the kiss, slipping his tongue into Gladio’s mouth as they stumble toward the bedroom.  
  
They don’t take it slowly—and that's quite all right. They've taken things slowly enough already.


	12. Onward

Rose sits at the counter, her chin cupped in her hands, and watches Ignis whisk batter for the chocolate chip pancakes he promised he'd make her this morning.  
  
"Are you and Papa going to get married?" she asks.  
  
Ignis pauses. It's something he's thought about, certainly, but never seriously considered. For one thing, he and Gladio have only been together for six months, and for another, he doesn’t necessarily believe marriage is required to show one’s commitment to a partner. He loves Gladio, and he knows Gladio loves him. He doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove it.  
  
Besides, their lives have been so hectic since the divorce—deciding whether to move in together, actually moving in together, adjusting to having Rose every other weekend, and all in addition to the demands of their careers—that Ignis is enjoying things just as they are.  
  
"I don't know," he says finally, resuming the whisking. "Do you think your papa would like that?"  
  
Rose nods solemnly. "I think it'd make him really happy, Uncle Iggy."  
  
"She's right."  
  
Ignis turns and finds Gladio standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling, his arms crossed over his chest. With a joyful cry, Rose launches off her stool and runs to him, giggling as he swings her up into his arms. Ignis smiles fondly as he watches them.  
  
He rather thinks marriage might make him happy, too.


	13. What goes around

Gladio pulled at the collar of his shirt. It was unbearably close around his neck, and hot. The cuffs weren't much better. He longed to shed the jacket and undo about half these buttons.

“Papa, you're fidgeting,” Rose scolded, as only a nine year old could.

Gladio laughed and turned away from the mirror, looking at his daughter instead. She was just at that age where she didn't want to be dressed in pink no matter how cute she looked, so the lavender gown had gone over well when Ignis had suggested the colour. She looked like a princess. She always did, to Gladio. “Sorry,” he said, “I'll stop. You ready?”

Rose gave a firm nod. Gladio scooped her up into his arms. She was getting too big to pick up easily, but the thought that the day would come that he wouldn't be able to lift his little girl off her feet made his stomach twist and he was determined to keep that day as far in the future as he could. Her weight rested in the crook of his arm, and she set her hands at his shoulders. “Papa?”

“What?” he asked, gazing up into dark brown eyes that were just like her mother's. He was going to have a hard time keeping boys, or girls away from her soon.

“Is he still going to be Uncle Iggy after today?”

Gladio smiled, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Rose's ear. The weight of her was making his arm and shoulder ache, but he wasn't ready to put her down yet. “He's going to be your Uncle Iggy your whole life,” Gladio promised her.

Rose screwed her nose up. “But he's not your brother, or Mama's,” she said, “so he's not really my Uncle.”

His chest swelled as he inhaled, debating his answer. “No,” he admitted, after a moment, “but Uncles and Aunts don't have to be related to you. Sometimes they're just friends of me and your Mama that love you too.”

“But you're marrying him,” Rose pressed. “So after today will he be Papa Iggy?”

Gladio swallowed over the tight lump in his throat. “Do you want him to be?” he asked, daring to hope. He wanted to be there the first time she said those words to Ignis. Ignis, who loved her as fiercely as he did. Ignis who had cradled her and wiped away her tears when she'd got in trouble for fighting at school because someone had been mean about her Papa being with another man. Ignis who formed a united front with Lucina to keep Rose from the corrupting influence of her Papa's dietary preferences, and prevented him from spoiling her rotten.

Rose looked at him for a long time, her lips pursed in thought, and then she nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to everyone that has read, kudosed, and commented. We really appreciate it.


End file.
